by Lauren Dane
Edward grinned like she’d just won first prize.
She dived in and handled the hearings. Edward didn’t say much after he introduced her to the judge. She met with her clients, and maybe two of the three wouldn’t be back for a repeat performance if she could get them out of trouble.
After wrapping things up at the courthouse, they’d headed over to the Sands for lunch. Once they’d put in their orders and two tall glasses of iced tea had been set before them, Edward raised his in Caroline’s direction. “You did a good job today. Glad to have you on board.”
She snorted but raised her glass back. “Thanks.”
“So, tell me something, Caroline.”
“What’s that?”
“Your daddy was found guilty and he lost three appeals. Why do you still think he’s innocent?”
She preferred direct people in her life and Edward Chase was no exception. Better he ask than she try to figure out what she could talk about and in how much detail.
“Where was the motive? Why would a happily married man with no criminal history and not a single whisper of trouble in his marriage suddenly violently murder his wife? They had nothing. The only physical evidence was paper thin. His DNA at the scene? A diner he was in daily? He had no defensive wounds. If he’d have stabbed her forty-two times, how did he not nick himself a single one? Where was the murder weapon? There was so much evidence they just never followed up on. There were footprints outside the back door. Three sizes bigger than my father’s. There was blood, three drops of it, from my mother’s body to the back door. Not the same type as my father’s. They never even ran a DNA test.”
“So why arrest your daddy then? Why put him on trial? Why find him guilty?”
“Sure, because you and I both know people never ever get railroaded for stuff they didn’t do.”
“No shortcuts, Ms. Mendoza.” He wagged his finger.
“Look, here’s this guy, an outsider in a small town. The beautiful blonde former cheerleader and homecoming queen is horribly murdered.” Her jaw hardened for a moment as she thought about her mother, about how truly lovely her mom had been. Caroline had seen the crime-scene photos, the ones her father’s family had refused to let her look at until she’d turned eighteen and gotten the case file herself.
Her mother had been broken. Stabbed and bloodied. Hanks of her hair had been cut off with a knife, probably the same one that had killed her.
“They come in, she’s been horribly killed. My father is holding her and he’s in a fugue state. He can’t answer their questions. He’s covered in her blood. It’s a neat package, and while the sheriff you have now is certainly no slouch, the one Petal had then wasn’t going to turn away from an easy answer. A Mexican guy comes in, takes their golden beauty and kills her. He told the court during my dad’s trial that that’s what people like Enrique do. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.
“My father made an easy target. Add lazy police work and an overloaded system, and you got a conviction. He had a decent defense. Hell, his attorney even helped me appeal on inadequate defense. The other procedural stuff?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I used to think all I had to say was he didn’t do it and they’d let him go. It’s what drove me to law school. And then I learned that wasn’t enough. I have a sense that some evidence was withheld but not enough to actually build a case. I know for sure there’s evidence missing. Phone log pages from the days following the murder for one.”
Edward nodded as they paused when their lunch arrived.
“He didn’t do it. I knew my parents better than anyone else who testified. They argued, sure, but not in an abnormal way. She spoiled us and he spoiled her and they were good. My dad was a gentle person. And no one was more damaged by her murder than he was. He used to weep all the time that the real killer was out there. He worried over me and my siblings, for our safety.”
She shook her head. “This is a man who never even spanked us, how is that guy going to stab his wife forty-two times and hack off her hair? And why? Where did the hair go? Where did the weapon go? Whose blood was it at the scene? There was not enough to overcome reasonable doubt. At all.”
“How long has this been your personal project?”
“I left here and moved in with my uncle in Long Beach. I was sixteen. I spent the next year or so fighting counseling, but my uncle and my dad’s parents pushed until I went. Every time I came back here, I’d sort of lose my way and it took me a few months to get back on track again. But right before I graduated from high school, I read a piece in a magazine about the Innocence Project and a man they’d just freed from prison after a DNA test proved he wasn’t the murderer. I was eighteen.”
“You never doubted? Not even once?”
“They arrested him that night and he never came home. We all moved in with my grandparents here. They were convinced from that moment and we were never allowed to speak otherwise. But I just…” She shrugged. “It never occurred to me that he was capable of such a thing. He just wasn’t. And my mom was really smart. Strong. She wouldn’t have stayed if he was the monster they said he was at trial. If for no other reason than us. She would have died to protect us. If he’d been abusive, she’d have left him.”
“How do your grandparents feel about this whole thing?”
“It’s complicated.” She snorted. “I mean, you know them. I know the Lassiters and Chases have been friends for a few generations now. They believe what they believe, which is their right. I don’t think they were ever going to hear anything else than my father’s guilt.”
“I’ve known your grandparents a long time, yes. And your grandmother is…well, you’re a lot like her. She’s very sure of her opinions. But unlike you, I’m not sure she’s looked into any other explanations of the murder.”
“Most people don’t. I understand that. Their daughter was killed. The authorities told them who did it and that was enough. It is for most people and it’s that way for a reason. But they see my leaving Petal as a betrayal. To them, I chose a side. We don’t talk about it. But when it comes up, as things people try to bury with resentment always do, it’s ugly and judgmental. They loved my mother and there’s no room for me to love both my parents. They see my belief in my father’s innocence as a betrayal of my mother.”
He didn’t speak for a long time, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence so Caroline made a serious dent in her meatloaf.
Edward liked Caroline Mendoza a great deal. It took courage to believe things others didn’t. Especially when he knew it had estranged her from her mother’s people as well as her siblings.
After his chat with Abigail and James at church the day before, he’d come home and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with his family. But Caroline had been in the back of his mind.
Caroline and her father’s case.
On the way home in the car, Polly had said, “The way they talk about that girl bothers me. Abigail has no right at all to make it out that Caroline is selfish. Imagine, Edward, what it must have been like for her growing up after her momma was killed. Her brother and sister always had Abigail and James there for them. But they talk about Caroline like she’s that uncle who keeps going to jail for stuff no one wants to talk about. I don’t like it one bit.”
His wife was clever, and she had a heart bigger than anyone else he’d ever known. He could see right then that Caroline would be pulled in to their family if Polly had any say. And he’d never seen a single person who could resist his wife when she set her mind to something.
“What do you think, Edward?” Polly had asked.
“About what, lamb?”
“Did Enrique Mendoza kill Bianca?”
“I didn’t go to the trial. I’ve read the articles about it. I’ve never been entirely comfortable that reasonable doubt was overcome.”
“People are going to be hostile to her. She’s going to need folks in her corner.”
“You proposing us?” He grinned.
“I never get
in your work business. That’s your world and it’s not my place. But, if you ever thought maybe he was innocent, that she was right, well I imagine that would sway more than a few folks in town. She’s alone. I know the Lassiters have suffered, but they’re wrong to shut Caroline out the way they do. You can’t put conditions on love that way.”
Again, Polly had been right and he’d been thinking about it since then. He’d thought about it ever since Caroline’s resume had shown up in the office. Had even before that, on and off over the years.
He’d decided when he’d gotten up that morning to get some answers of his own, and what he discovered would help him decide what to do next.
“I wager you have a file. On your father I mean.”
Caroline nodded. “I do.”
“Can I see it?”
Hope lit her gaze but it was wary at the edges. “Why?”
“I’m going to be honest with you because I’m not very good at lying and I respect you too much to play games. I have never entirely felt convinced of your father’s guilt. I’d like to see what you’ve gathered up.”
“All right. And then what?”
“It’s not going to be totally easy, you know, coming back here and pursuing this. People feel threatened when you start hacking away at the foundations of the things they believe keep them safe. If I read what you’ve got and I am convinced of his innocence, you’ll have another person to help. Another person in your corner. But if I read it and I’m not, well, I’ll tell you that too. But I won’t ever make you stop trying to prove his innocence either way. That’s your business and your right.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her smile was a little weak but it was there.
Chapter Five
Royal had come to town pretty much daily since he’d seen Caroline in the grocery store. He hoped he managed to bump into her soon or daily trips to town might be seen as more stalkery and less hey I hope I can bump into Caroline today.
He’d tried the courthouse and some of the restaurants near her office. A girl had to eat. He knew she was around. Petal was Petal after all and the gossip machine was in full swing. Word was all over the place about her return.
She was beautiful so that was mentioned a lot in positive and negative terms. A lawyer, also mentioned a lot. Frowned on, though less so, because she’d started with Edward Chase’s firm. Whispers about her father had made him uncomfortable on many levels.
So he’d come to town. First to grab his aunt’s prescription and to drop off some invoices, and now to stroll by the offices of Chase and Chase to see if he could engineer bumping into a fun-sized brunette with big brown eyes and a fantastic rack.
It was after six, but he figured she wasn’t one for leaving right at five.
And like he’d dreamed her up, she pushed out of the doors and settled the strap of her bag on a very well-dressed shoulder.
Damn her mouth was gorgeous. She wore the ghost of a smile as she turned on the sidewalk and headed in his direction.
Royal raised his hand and waved, and when she noticed him, her attention settled like a physical thing.
“Hey now, it’s Caroline Mendoza.”
That ghost of a smile bloomed into a genuine one. An expression that told him how happy she was to see him.
“Why hello, Royal.”
He tipped his chin in her direction. “You’re even better than Friday.”
One of her brows went up. “You’re pretty good with the flattery.”
He hadn’t been entirely sure about the Friday line so he was glad she’d liked it. “I do believe you said if I bumped into you around town you’d have a drink with me.”
“I think I said I’d probably give you my number if you bumped into me around town. However I’m thirsty and it’s been a long week, so let’s pretend I totally did.” She held up a coat and some files. “I need to drop this all off and to change. Because nothing about stockings says relaxation.”
He gulped. “Stockings, huh? Well I don’t know if it says relaxation, but it sure does say all sorts of positive things to me.”
She grinned.
“Did you drive?”
“I only live four blocks away so I walked.”
He took her files and coat. “I’ll carry them for you. How about we do dinner and a beer? I’m starving.”
She shrugged and took up walking next to him. “All righty.”
For a short person, she moved surprisingly fast. Sort of headfirst. She seemed so very sure about everything she did, right down to walking.
She led him up a set of back stairs to her apartment, and he barked a laugh. “One of my friends used to live here. A bachelor pad of sorts.”
She unlocked and waved him in, but he held the door for her. “Really? I guess I should be glad the walls can’t talk.”
Considering the life Marc Chase had lived before he’d ended up with his wife, probably not. Unless Caroline liked dirty-talking walls.
She looked back at him as she hung her coat up. “You can drop those files on the table. Where are we going to dinner?”
“Huh?” He’d been staring at her ass and only caught a word or two.
“Dinner? Jeans okay or do I need to dress up?”
He panicked for a moment. He’d planned on the Pumphouse. They had a great menu and plenty of beers on tap, but should he take her somewhere nicer?
“That wasn’t a trick question, Royal.”
“Go on, laugh at my confusion.”
“I would if I knew what you were confused about. How about this? I would very much like to relax. A pitcher of beer, a burger, tacos, pizza, you know, casual stuff.”
“Sounds perfect. The Pumphouse then. So jeans are just fine.”
“I’ll be out in a few.”
He cruised around her apartment, looking at the pictures on the walls. He paused at the wedding photograph. Her mother and father so very young. Hell, younger than he was right then.
Love was stamped all over them. He knew at that moment, without a single doubt, that Caroline saw them just like this. Her memories of her parents were of these two people. And he understood it. These two people could not have ended the way they had with Bianca Mendoza’s broken body in her husband’s arms. Not with Enrique as the man who killed her.
Royal didn’t know the truth of it, but he knew what she saw, what Caroline believed.
“They were eighteen. She was pregnant with me but you can’t even tell.”
She’d come out and he hadn’t even heard.
“You ready?”
He turned and the breath was knocked from his lungs at the sight of her. “Good Lord above you’re beautiful.”
She smiled and there was shyness in it. He hadn’t seen even a hint of shyness about her, and it sent a wave of tenderness through his gut.
He tipped his head toward the picture of her parents. “I recognize the church. My parents were married there too. She was pregnant as well.” He winked and Caroline swallowed hard and the smile she gave him this time was different. Not flirty or sweet, there was…gratitude maybe? He wasn’t sure what it was, but for a brief moment she was vulnerable.
It was gone after a breath or two, though, replaced with her take-charge expression. “Come on then. I’m really hungry, and one of my clients was such a pain in the ass this week I need at least two beers.”
He took her hand once they’d reached the sidewalk, and the shock of it sang up his arm. She fit there with him, her hand in his.
She didn’t attempt to pull away as she adjusted her pace to his.
The Pumphouse wasn’t at full capacity just yet, so they grabbed a small booth near the front windows. He wanted to slide in next to her but he refrained. Across from her he could look his fill, that’d be fine too. The next time, or maybe the time after, he’d claim that space next to her in a booth.
“Beer me.” She winked and he liked it.
He ordered a pitcher of a local brew they’d started serving recently.
“I�
�ve never eaten in here. What’s good?”
“You haven’t? It’s not like you never came back to town, right? I know you visited a few times a year.”
“Do you now? Have you been keeping tabs on me?”
He started to explain and noted her smirk.
“Lord amighty, woman, I thought you were serious for a minute there.”
Caroline snickered as she looked over the menu. “You’ve met my grandparents, right? Do they strike you as the type to eat in a place like this? My grandmother might keel over at the mere sight of paper napkins, Royal. She’s not eating nachos and having three-buck pitchers.” She burst out laughing. “Though, oh my God, I’d love to see the look on her face if she did.”
“Well, her loss then. The burgers are good. Nachos too. Wings. Bar and grill food.”
She put her menu down when their server brought the beer, and she ordered a cheeseburger and rings. He’d been planning on wings, but her order sounded so good he went with that too.
“So tell me then at the end of your first week at work, how’s Petal treating you?”
“It’s been pretty good. Polly Chase brings me casseroles and cakes. Just for existing. She’s freaking amazing, that woman. Tiny woman, huge presence. Oh and her hair. Big hair. She smells good. I’ve decided I’d like to be her when I grow up.”
He snorted. “Polly Chase is a force of nature. Edward is so laid-back and mellow, and she’s so chatty and nosy but in the best way. I mean, well you know what I mean.”
“Edward’s been wonderful. He did sort of just toss me in the deep end with some clients, but that’s fine. Partly I think he was testing me, which I’d do in his place. Hell I did it when we hired new people at my old firm. You have to know if people can handle their shit.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Stuff.”
His brows flew up and then he snickered. “You worried about offending me or something? I’ve heard bad words. I say them sometimes too.”
